


Uncontrollable

by Hildigunnur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Comedy, Consensual Underage Sex, Erotica, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-21
Updated: 2006-07-21
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hildigunnur/pseuds/Hildigunnur
Summary: Hermione turns Ron on, all the time. Add to that teenage drinking and everything spins out of control.





	Uncontrollable

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015.
> 
> Written 2004 for the Ronficathon on LJ. Beta-ed by QueenRiley.

__She was everywhere he turned. Looking at him from under her lowered eyelids. Her lashes obscured the chocolate brown irises of her eyes, making it impossible for him to drown in them. All he wanted was to stare forever into her eyes. Obviously, her plans weren't quite in that vein. Suddenly her hands were on him, under his shirt and halfway down his trousers. Without uttering a single sound, she pressed her lips to his while wrapping her hand around his cock. Somehow the only reaction he could possibly give was parting his lips, allowing her tongue to roam his mouth as she was stroking him. Even when she pulled down his trousers and when her mouth left his to take in his length, he didn't take a deep breath. Yet there was something inside him, rushing to the surface.__  


She was under him, her legs circled around him and he was inside of her, pounding into her and hearing her groan at each thrust. Whatever was inside him and had been close to the surface before was now just seconds from erupting.  
  
Everything went blank, she vanished and all he was left with was this feeling that he had dissolved into countless particles.

Ron opened his eyes. Remarkably, he was in one piece. There was no Hermione beside him. In fact, what he had was rather concrete evidence that he had been dreaming. A wet dream. Complete with stained sheets.  
  


Still it wasn't like this was new to him. This had to be the fifteenth night in a row he had had "an improper dream" about her. Though she perhaps hadn't been a constant factor in his hormonally driven fantasies, she was the major player, where she easily changed between Hermione the sex kitten, Hermione the dominatrix, Hermione the sensual and Hermione the bookish but horny. It sometimes proved a problem to keep those separate from Hermione, his friend in the waking world.  
  
He rose to dress. Then he loosened the sheets from his bed, just to indicate to the house elves that yet again his bed needed to be changed. If only Hermione knew about the troubles she was causing the house elves by appearing in his dreams. She would make him endless batches of Dreamless Draught, without doubt force-feeding it to him every night. Something about that image in his head made him hard. Was there nothing Hermione did that didn't turn him on? This was getting decidedly serious because even though he was able to clear his mind of thoughts about Hermione for a moment by thinking about Mundungus Fletcher in a pink dress, the pink dress somehow led back to a naked Hermione.  
  
Recurring fantasies about Hermione kept bothering him throughout the school day so that near the end of the last lesson, he was in all earnest considering sending his mother a thank-you note for buying him slightly too big school robes at the start of the year "because he was sure to have at least another growth spurt if he was at all like his father and eldest brother."  
  
Ron dragged his feet as he made ascension up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. He would have loved to be able to go straight to bed and take care of this problem that been plaguing him. Unfortunately there was the small matter of Seamus's 17th birthday party standing in the way. No chance to have a nice, good wank to clear his mind.  
  
Someone had obviously skived off the last lesson that day because there were already decorations in place in the Gryffindor common room and the host of the party was setting up beverages. He noticed there was a bowl of punch and yes, a few bottles of Odgen's Old Firewhisky.  
  
Something in Ron's regard didn't sit well with Seamus who suddenly asked, "What Weasley? Does the Prefect not approve or what?"  
  
"Huh? No, not at all. I don't mind. Can't promise that Hermione will treat you with silk gloves though." As soon as he had uttered Hermione's name, his problem returned in full force. If this was going to continue like this, he would need to move across the world and get a strong Memory Charm.  
  
He hurried over to his favourite armchair, sank down into it and crossed his legs very quickly. There he intended to stay the rest of the evening, even until everyone had gone to bed if necessary.  
  
Shortly after he sat down, Harry came over looking very pleased with himself.  
  
"There you are, see what I just got." He produced a whole big bottle of Firewhisky and put it down on the little table between their chairs. "I think Seamus is still feeling a bit ashamed about his behaviour last year." Ron didn't reply. He knew Harry was expecting to share the bottle with him but he wasn't so sure it would be a good idea for him to drink, seeing that he was having enough trouble keeping control of himself as it was.  
  
Yet, somehow, half an hour later, he was on his second cup of whisky and so was Harry. He couldn't say that he was feeling drunk. Harry, on the other hand, had become slightly more talkative than usual and was now prattling about some article he had been reading in Quidditch Now! Ron didn't pay much heed to it and was secretly looking over the common room every five minutes in case he'd spotted Hermione. In his mind, he tried to rationalize this. She was his co-Prefect and without doubt, she would have something to say about this party and the fact that alcohol was being served. Surely she would find something at fault with the whole proceedings. Figures. Really, it was best for him to concentrate on the drinking and worry about Hermione later. For he had been doing so directly and indirectly all day.  
  
As he poured the drops that were left in his cup down his throat, his sister appeared and perched on the arm of his chair.  
  
"I see you two are benefiting from Mr Finnigan's generosity." She said and cocked her head towards the bottle that stood on the small table that was between the chairs.  
  
"I think Finnigan does owe me at least one bottle more of this for last year." Harry looked expectantly her way as if he thought she would defend Seamus.  
  
"Perhaps he does. Though if it's only drunken stupor you two seek, then you don't have to resort to accepting his handouts or even to drink Firewhisky." Ginny reached into her pocket and took out a small bottle.  
  
"What do you have there?" asked Ron as he reached after it. The label clearly indicated a product from his brothers. __Punch The Punch__ the label read. - An Original Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product.  
  
"What's that?" Harry was squinting at the tiny label.  
  
"If you put this in a non-alcoholic punch, just like I did earlier, it makes it alcoholic without adding the taste of alcohol." Both Ron and Harry turned to look at Ginny.  
  
"Seriously?" asked Harry.  
  
"What about the midgets? The first years, I mean? It's one thing getting the older crowd drunk but we don't want the midgets spewing all over place because that would bring the wrath of McGonagall faster than any of the Educational Decrees Umbridge set in place." Ron almost bit his tongue. That had sounded way too much like Hermione. Ginny grinned.  
  
"You underestimate our brothers. They actually did think of that. Not sure how exactly it works but I've been reassured that those who can't handle it, won't actually get drunk."  
  
"That sounds almost too responsible to be something that Fred and George thought of," added Harry.  
  
"I'd agree if they hadn't mentioned that there was an extra feature, something about lowering inhibitions and getting people to dare to do things they normally wouldn't do." Ginny let the bottle dangle between her fingers and then pocketed it with a flourish.  
  
He and Harry couldn't help but have one eye on the punch bowl after this revelation. Harry had changed the subject to anti-jinxes even though at the moment all he did was mixing up hexes. Somewhat amusing if Ron hadn't been feeling a bit anxious about the obvious absence of a certain bushy-haired girl.  
  
Until she finally showed up, just when Ron was finishing the third cup of his drink, with the smile that told him that she had just been doing some very important work for S.P.E.W. Perhaps the on-goings in the common room wouldn't register with her right away.  
  
"Hi, I've just been reading a very interesting book I had Madam Pince specially order for me. Very enlightening. I see you are both settled in party mode. God, I'm parched. Isn't there something to drink here?" Wordlessly Harry pointed out the punch bowl to Hermione. When she turned her back on them, he gave Ron a wink.  
  
He didn't return the wink. A small voice in his head told him that those effects his brothers' product, which Ginny described so vaguely, might indeed have been intended for someone like her. In fact, it wouldn't surprise him if Hermione's name had come up when his brothers had been developing the potion.  
  
With an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he watched Hermione down a couple of cups of the punch. It came almost as a surprise to him that she didn't change into a beast on the spot. So he downed his fourth cup of whisky to brace himself for whatever effect the concoction would have on her.  
  
"That book I was reading, is very fascinating but I think I'll tell you all about it later." said Hermione as she sat down on the same arm rest Ginny had occupied earlier. "What have you been up to?" she asked and looked at Ron. He gulped. The most honest answer would be saying 'avoiding thinking about you' but instead he said:  
  
"Nothing much really."  
  
"No, tell me. You've been sitting here for more than an hour. No party tales to tell?" She was fiddling with the collar of his robes and Harry was watching them, obviously extremely amused.  
  
"We've just been sitting here and chatting … and yeah."  
  
"And drinking as it seems." She pointed out the empty cups along with the half full bottle. He tensed up, surely she would have some comments on that but they never came.  
  
"You two are fortunate that it's Saturday tomorrow, because I don't think it would be feasible to show up for Transfiguation with a hang-over." He didn't argue that.  
  
"Are you drunk yet?" She smiled at him as she was now starting to play with his tie. He didn't attempt to answer her, firstly because she had slipped a little in her seat and was now more sitting in his lap than on the arm rest and because he wasn't sure how to answer. All he was sensing now was panic. He looked up as to see if Harry was in any position to give him assistance. No Harry there. Bastard! Where had he gone?  
  
"Aren't you going to answer my question?" she demanded as she was starting to loosen up his tie. He debated with himself if he should retort that it wasn't him who was drunk but decided against it. It might cause her to wiggle better into his lap and at the moment, such a manoeuvre had disaster spelled all over it. Despite his efforts earlier, the very physical evidence for his desire for Hermione had returned. With a vengeance.  
  
"What's the matter with you today? The cat's got your tongue or something?" He attempted to smile at her but it seemed that his attempt hadn't quite worked. She looked concerned and reached with her hand as to touch his forehead. Her sudden movement made him wince, causing her to slide completely into his lap. He froze as the look on her face changed from concerned to ... intrigued. Her mouth formed a small 'o' and her eyes grew totally round.  
  
With his eyes squeezed tight together, he pushed his head into the back of the chair to prepare for the inevitable slap on the face she was bound to give him. It never came. Instead she did something unthinkable. At least it was unthinkable in his mind.  
  
Her hand moved down to his crotch and she cupped him. His eyes flew open and he looked straight at her. She was smiling like the cat that's got the cream.  
  
"Is this for me or are you just generally aroused?" The nerve of her. He couldn't believe she just said that. His attempt to answer ended in some strange guttural growl which for some bizarre reason she interpreted as an invitation.  
  
An invitation to kiss him. Hard on the lips. He couldn't help but kiss her back. Next he knew, her tongue was seeking entrance to his mouth. Working on instinct, he reciprocated her every move, even inventing some of his own.  
  
She was now straddling him, pressing against him, kissing his jaw, his neck while he weaved his fingers though her hair. All seeds of doubt vanished as her lips found one of his earlobes.  
  
"Mmm ... Ron. I think we should find some place a bit more private than this." __Sure__ , he thought. At that point, he was ready to go Acromantula-hunting with her. She took his hand and led him through the common room. The effects of the alcohol were quite apparent now. He was hardly able to keep his balance. Blindly he followed her and didn't think about where they were going until they were well on their way ascending the stairs to his dormitory.  
  
"Erm ... Hermione. Where are we going?"  
  
"Somewhere private."  
  
"The boys' dormitories are somewhere private?"  
  
"Trust me."  
  
What else could he do but follow? Being inebriated and all. She led him into his dormitory and magically sealed the door. How she managed to remember any spells was beyond him.  
  
"What are we doing?" he asked as she sat him down on his bed. With one eyebrow raised, she looked at him and smiled.  
  
"This." She pushed him down on the bed and landed on the top of him. It was like not a second had passed since they had been making out in the chair down in the common room. Her mouth sought out his mouth, her hands were sneaking under the hemline of his jumper, her fingers tracing his skin underneath.  
  
Like in a trance, he mirrored her actions, meeting her kisses, exploring the outlines of her body. Slowly allowing himself to realize that it was Hermione with whom he was making out and thus fulfilling the fantasies from his recurrent dreams.  
  
In a bold move, he started to unbutton her blouse, wanting to touch her silken skin. She used the opportunity to remove his belt and delving her hand down his trousers. So it was with a sharp intake of breath he finished the unbuttoning. His hand flew straight to her breast, only to find the lacy texture of her bra.  
  
Blended to his annoyed sigh as he tried to move under the bra, was his gasp as her fingers found their way under the waistband of his boxers. If she was going to keep touching him like that, he wouldn't last very long. At all. Still, there was the matter of trying to remove that blasted bra which was proving to be the most stubborn device he had ever come in contact with. All he was achieving at the moment was getting his fingers stuck under the piece of fabric that covered one breast. There was something hard there that totally clammed down on his fingers. Why on earth would she wear anything like that?  
  
Hermione was more successful in removing the cloth articles that were in her way to wrap her hand around his cock and making him forget that he was waging a bloody battle with one of her undergarments. Leisurely she stroked him, making him draw breath in sharp, little gasps.  
  
"Hermione?" he managed to croak. He would have to convince her to stop before he would simply blow his load all over her hand.  
  
She just looked straight at him, her hand still wrapped around his length, clearly expecting something. He raised himself up in the bed, with willpower he was surprised he still had.  
  
"You want to ..." His voice failed him before he could finish the question. Not that he was sure he would have been able to finish the question anyway.  
  
It appeared like she didn't need to hear the rest of the question. Off went her blouse and bra along with her skirt.  
  
Fuck. No other word could as effectively describe his situation at the moment. Here she was, the girl who he had lusted after. More importantly she was his friend and no matter how the whole thing would play out, this was going to be awkward afterwards. Indeed, what the hell was he supposed to do?  
  
Somehow she seemed to have anticipated his lack of initiative. Grabbing his shoulders, she pulled him down with her so he ended on top of her. Again she claimed his lips with hers with ferocity, igniting him to act further.  
  
He pulled off his boxers hurriedly while she pushed her knickers away. His thoughts didn't feel very coherent anymore. There was no denying it, he hadn't a clue what he was doing in the first place. This was so completely different from his fantasies where things just happened without anyone needing to know how they worked.  
  
Soon he found himself positioned to enter her. Looking down on her determined face, he tentatively pushed forward, fully knowing that this would hurt her. That didn't appear to bother her though. She seemed to be getting tired of his timidity, she grabbed his length and guided him in.  
  
As much as he wanted to do this properly in order not to hurt her, it was too much to ask of him. All the self-restrain he had ever practiced ad now completely evaporated. She felt so tight and warm around him. He had to thrust, wishing with every movement that it wasn't causing her much pain. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, she was faintly moaning.  
  
There was no way he could last long, this surpassed everything he had ever imagined. It built up inside him, coiling up, making him feel like he was going to explode.  
  
So he did. Never before had he come so violently, so intensely. His mind went completely blank as he tensed up and the only sound he was capable of giving was a loud grunt. Then he went limp, sliding down beside her in the bed.  
  
He seemed unable to regain any semblance of consciousness but in his hazy state, he reached out for her and she snuggled up to him. Her hand felt cool against his skin, calming him down even more. So much that he quickly fell asleep.  
  


~~~

Ron wasn't quite sure what had made him drift to a semi-waking state. The drapes around his four poster bed were closed so it couldn't be sunlight. Then he felt something warm and solid that was partially lying on him.

Hermione.

He was suddenly wide awake, remembering everything that happened. Panic settled in. How on earth were they going to get up with this? She was there in his bed and he couldn't imagine that she'd be able to get to her dormitory without being discovered. He had to thank for small mercies like the closed drapes.

As he was lying there and imagining the Howler his mother would send when he would be suspended from Hogwarts, Hermione stirred.

"Awake?"

"Yes." He whispered.

"Thanks for last night." She turned so she was looking him in the face. Thanking him for what? He couldn't deny that it had been wonderful for him, but her? When it had been over so fast?

"But ... I fell asleep."

"Oh, Ron." She reached up and kissed the tip of his nose. "I can't imagine it having been any better." His heart skipped a beat.

"So ... us?" He watched her face, hoping against hope.

"You silly boy," she said and giggled. "I'm not sure what caused this to happen last night but I don't have any regrets."

With a sigh of relief, he leaned forward and kissed her. A gentle kiss, unlike the passionate kisses they had exchanged before. She broke it fairly quickly and sat up in the bed.

"I think I have to get going over to my dormitory so they won't get too suspicious."

"How are you going to manage that?" The panic rose again in him.

"With this." She pointed out something silvery that was lying at the foot of the bed. Harry's Invisibility Cloak. That meant that Harry had put it there, which meant that Harry knew.

"Don't worry, Ron. If Harry is lending us the cloak, he's okay with this."

"I suppose so. It's just ... how are we going to thank him? Do you think naming our first-born after him will be enough?"


End file.
